


I've Got to Move On

by EveninCouncilor



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mentions of Cancer, Post-Episode: s19e13 The Undiscovered Country
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-28 12:32:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveninCouncilor/pseuds/EveninCouncilor
Summary: Rafael Barba turned his back on the looming, marble building that held within its clutches his past. He turned his back on the past that was consumed entirely by case law, long nights, and stale coffee. He turned his back on his colleagues who protected the law and those who fell beneath its umbrella. He turned his back on his friends to keep them safe from the ticking time bomb that was him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am still grieving over the loss of our dear Rafael Barba. He made me a better person and I will be forever in debt to Raul Esparza for being absolutely amazing and making me live life a little more fully. I have come up with a few alternate endings for Barba Post- Undiscovered Country, so here is one I thought of during organic chem today and I thought I'd actually write it. I don't know if I'm going to leave this as a one-shot or not.... so let me know what y'all think!

“I’ve got to move on.” He placed a kiss on his best friend’s forehead and blinked hard to stop the tears from falling. The wetness of her eyes caused his breath to catch in his throat as he turned away.

 

Rafael Barba turned his back on the looming, marble building that held within its clutches his past. He turned his back on the past that was consumed entirely by case law, long nights, and stale coffee. He turned his back on his colleagues who protected the law and those who fell beneath its umbrella. He turned his back on his friends to keep them safe from the ticking time bomb that was him. 

 

Rafael turned to face the frosty gusts of air that streamed between the tall New York buildings, making his way to his house. Well, his mother’s house. He hasn’t been living in his own place for months now. Everything was going to shit and his Mami let him stay with her, for his sake and hers. 

 

He reached the quaint building and made his way up to the third floor, foregoing the elevator for a chance to keep his tears at bay. He seemed to be crying a lot lately and didn’t want to worry Mami any more than he already had.

 

“Mami, I’m home,” he pushed open the door to see his duffle bag laying on the worn out couch. A deep sigh escaped the man’s lips as he toed off his shoes and made the way to the kitchen, where the aroma was soothing. “Mami, whatcha making?” Rafael took in a deep sniff of the spicy scent that filled the small kitchen. 

 

“Arroz con pollo,” Lucia took a long look at her son. He was so worn down, so tired.  _ This is only the start, _ she thought to herself. “Sientense, mijo. Relax a little bit. No more worrying about work or the trial. You can focus on getting better.” She gave him a small, forced smile as she platted the dinner. 

 

Rafael smiled weakly as he plopped down on the stool to under the kitchen island, pulling the hot plate over and breathing in the aroma. Picking up a fork, he began to eat his first full meal in weeks, if not months. Lucia grinned with delight at his eating, not saying anything, because if she did he would stop. “How was work today, Mami?” he looked up from his plate to the warm eyes in front of him. 

 

“Oh, the usual. Absolutely busy, but worth every second,” she let the last word hang, knowing that she should’ve dismissed the question. That is the exact explanation he always gave to that question when she asked about his work, which was no longer existent. Her son didn’t seem phased by the answer so she continued the conversation, “how did your meeting go?”

 

The emerald eyes were rimmed with red and tears threatened to spill over at any second. His voice wavered slightly, “it was fine. I told McCoy that I couldn’t stay any longer, especially after the trial.”

 

“Did you tell him about-”

 

“No, Mami,” his breath hitched, “I didn’t tell him  _ that _ … I couldn’t.” Sobs racked his chest as Rafael stood from the island to go to the couch. He curled up in a tattered throw blanket and continued to sob uncontrollably. His mother was there in an instant to wrap her child in a warm embrace, in an effort to console his fears and worries. Nothing was as hard as watching your child scared and upset. 

 

“Mijo, it will be okay. Esta bien,” she smoothed down his sweat-matted locks, “it will-”

 

“IT WILL NOT BE OKAY!” Rafael shouted, throwing the duffle bag against the wall, falling back to his mother’s chest, heaving with frustration. His mind was consumed by exhaustion as the wails that drew from his lips quieted to a whimper, and eventually, darkness clawed at his eyelids, forcing them closed. 

 

\----

 

Rafael wandered into the dimly lit bar, a clear melody bouncing on ivory keys, the smell of wine and whiskey filling his nostrils. It was so alive with people chatting and acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. He grimaced at the thought. Making his way to the bar he spotted the one person who requested his presence. 

 

“Evenin’ Councilor,” he smirked at the woman leaning against the bar. At the sound of his voice, she turned to face him and the corner of her mouth raised in a tight smile. 

 

“Rafael, please, sit.” She motioned at the stool beside her. 

 

Taking the seat he lifted a finger to the bartender, ignoring the drink she already had waiting for him, “water, please.” His counterpart raised a brow in question, “doctor’s orders.” It was all he needed to say for her to know what was going on with him. 

 

“Oh Rafi,” she sighed and rested her head on her shoulder.

 

“Please, Rita. I’m okay-”

 

“Really?” her tone was dripping with concern for her oldest friend. Rafael just looked forlorn and shook his head. “How bad is it?”

 

“Really bad,” he glanced down the bar to a couple of girls squealing about the latest movie star. He couldn’t bear to look his friend in the eye.

 

“Raf-”

 

“Melanoma. Stage IV.”

 

She shook her head, “is it--”

 

“Yeah,” he breathed a sigh, “it has metastasized.” Forcing himself to look Rita in the eye he came clean, “the doctors say I don’t have much longer. I could continue chemotherapy and radiation, or surgery, but I don’t think I want that,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “Mami wants me to try more, but I did. I tried. It hasn’t worked, and I don’t think it will.”

 

Rita looked deep into his eyes and could tell he was ready to give into his sickness, “well, at least you didn’t lose your hair.” He snorted at her response, which was a small victory for her. “Is that why you left?”

 

He inhaled sharply and breathed out a “yes.” Rafael squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then revealed the stinging droplets of salty tears, “I couldn’t handle the job anymore. I told McCoy that I was giving mercy to that child because I went through the same thing with my father, but--- in reality, I just wanted someone to do the same thing to me…. To pull my plug… I can’t handle any more needles or doctor’s appointments. I can’t take the poisons pumping through my body. I don’t eat, I sleep all day. I can hardly live anymore.” He looked hard at his college lifeline, the one who was there for him in his time of need at Harvard, who would drop anything to be at his side and help him with life, he needed her now to be the messenger. “I don’t want to live anymore.”

 

“Raf-”

 

“I can’t live anymore.” His tone was flat but so full of emotion that it elicited tears from her eyes. “I am sorry for doing this, but can you give these letters to everyone? There’s one for McCoy, the SVU squad, Mami, you,... and Liv,” his gaze was fleeting as he passed a bundle of cream envelopes tied in red ribbon to the woman in front of him. 

 

Rafael stood gathering his coat around him to brace for the cold that was surely waiting outside for him. 


	2. McCoy's Letter

There was a sharp knock on the wooden, oak door. He was not expecting anybody during this time of day. Nothing was on his schedule for the next thirty minutes. He rose and strode to turn the handle.

When the door opened enough Rita Calhoun was standing on the other side. She was dressed in her usual work attire, but she had an air about her that conveyed stress and anxiety.

“Ms. Calhoun--”

She thrust a plain cream envelope into his hands, “Here.”

His brows turned down in confusion at the sudden gesture. “What is this about?” he questioned.

Her voice was low and laced with concern, “Rafael.”

He turned the envelope over in his hands and returned to his desk to fetch a letter opener. The room was silent, albeit the slicing of the blade against the paper. He opened it and retrieved the letter from within, carefully reading the tight, familiar, cursive scrawl.

>  
> 
> _Jack,_
> 
> _I am writing to inform you of the real reason I left. What I said about my father was true, that did impact my judgment in that hospital room. Although, the real reason was why I was in the hospital in the first place._
> 
> _I have been undergoing chemotherapy and radiation for the past eight weeks. I am dying, albeit slower than desired at this point, but nonetheless, I had a good reason to do what I did. If that child could feel, he would have had it worse than I do now. At the moment, that thought is unfathomable. The pain I experience daily is excruciating, and to imagine a helpless child going through something worse is true hell._
> 
> _No one knows. No one would understand. I left on my own terms for a reason that meant something to me. I spared a life. I did not take one. I am not sorry for what I did. I am not sorry for how I did it. I am extremely not sorry for why I did it._
> 
> _Thank you for your belief in me over these years. I would most definitely not be who I am without your influence on my career and person. I appreciate the chance you took in bringing me to Manhattan all those years ago. You are not going to be seeing me again, so this is my official goodbye._
> 
> _Sleep Well,_
> 
> _Rafael Barba_

 

The DA’s face continued to drop as he progressed through the letter. He rubbed his hand across his face, not believing that his former ADA had been going through physical hell and had never said a word.

“Is this true?”

Rita shook her head slightly, “I wish I could tell you it’s not. Rafael-”

“How could he not ask for leave? Or something?” McCoy was still unbelieving of this new information.

“You and I both know how proud that man is. He would never want to leave having been seen as weak.”

His head shook slightly, “Where is he now?”

A sigh escaped her lips, “He refused to tell me… Refused to let me help him, except for being his messenger.”

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters belong to me! All credit goes to SVU for such amazing characters!
> 
> Please tip your writer in Kudos and Comments <3


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